Bring Her Home
by MyQuantumTheory
Summary: Hotch pulls Emily out of the room their unsub held her in, barely alive...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hi guys! This wasn't what I was planning on doing next but I've been doing requests on tumblr and this appeared… And I liked it and people wanted to see more. And anyway I've missed you non-tumblrites. The first two chapters are super short because they were written as drabbles, but they'll be full length fic size from here on. I hope you like :)**

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><p>He has Ambassador Prentiss in his office for an even worse reason than before. Their unsub has Emily, took her when she was supposed to be meeting her mother for dinner – there are a million things going through his mind, things they should have done, things he knows are happening to her now, things that could go wrong with what they're about to do, but all he says is, "We're going there now. We know who he is, we know where he's got her." He's strapping on his Kevlar as he speaks, nudging her gently backwards into a chair.<p>

"You said – I – how do you know she's in there? Are you sure -"

"I'll find her and bring her home," he says. "I promise. You need to stay here." He catches Garcia's eye and nods toward the ambassador, and she nods, wipes the tears from her face and comes to sit with her. He takes a second to be grateful for her, and then they're gone.

It takes a long time, too long, to clear the compound – he knows every minute they're in there is another minute the unsub has alone with her, another minute he has to realise they're onto him and take it out on her. He tries to block it out but has to settle for pushing it back, as far back in his brain as it'll go, as they clear room after room, the adrenaline so constant he's starting to feel nauseous.

And then he hears her scream.

He runs toward it, barely aware he's stopped signalling to SWAT and Morgan has taken over. He gets to where the sound is coming from, tries the handle on the door – a hand on his shoulder pulls him back, SWAT get the door down, and Morgan goes for the unsub and he goes for Emily.

She's on the floor, her clothes torn and cuts on her face, chest and arms – she fought him, and their blood is on the concrete around her. He drops to his knees at her side, fumbling to put away his gun. "Emily, look at me, sweetheart. Look at me." He lifts her chin so her eyes meet his – she collapses into him, her arms around his neck and her body trembling.

"I knew you'd find me," she mutters, hazy, and she'll never tell him that it isn't true, that she thought there was a chance they wouldn't. She watches, squinting through the fog in her vision, as Morgan shoves her handcuffed kidnapper toward one of the SWAT agents, and he's gone, finally gone, and she buries her face in Hotch's chest and tries to stop her body from shaking. "He gave me something," she says, her eyelids getting heavy. "In a syringe. Not long -"

She feels him stand, feels him pick her up, and she holds onto him and drops her head to his shoulder, and until she hears the ambulance doors close, the only thing she's really aware of is the smell of him, the feel of his hands gripping her just a little tighter than necessary.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! Don't forget to review.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

He sits in the waiting room, his shaking hands in fists on his lap and his throat aching horribly. He tried to keep up with what was going on in the ambulance, but all he knows is her heart was beating too slowly, and as soon as they got to the hospital they whisked her away and left him here, staring after her, dread gnawing at his stomach. The team are on their way, and all he's been able to tell her mother is that they found her and she's alive.

Or she was the last time he saw her. Barely. By the time they got her here she was pale and cold and unresponsive. How is he supposed to stop thinking about never seeing her alive again, about explaining to Jack…

He closes his eyes and drops his head into his hands. Losing her is inconceivable.

He's not sure how much time passes before the team arrive – JJ squeezes his shoulder as she sits down beside him. Now and then somebody in scrubs will come in and say they're doing everything they can, and he grits his teeth and tells himself it's not over yet.

"She's stubborn," JJ says softly, a brave smile in her voice. "Emily doesn't give up. If anyone can do this…" He must respond somehow, because she rests a hand on his arm and drops her voice to a whisper. "Hey. Don't. She's still in there."

The next time the door opens, the person in scrubs is smiling. "She's stable." She keeps talking after that, numbers and medications, but he's already getting up.

"Can I see her?"

She hesitates. "You're Aaron?" He nods. "Okay. Five minutes. She really needs to rest."

"Five minutes," he promises. When he gets to her room, she's hooked up to more things than he can count, but her skin looks like her skin again and when her eyes meet his her face lights up with a familiar smile. "Hi," he says breathlessly, leaning down to kiss her forehead, careful to avoid bruises and bandages, then perches on the edge of her bed. Her hand closes around his and he traces circles on her wrist, taking in the soft warmth of her skin he will never take for granted. "I love you. So much."

"Love you too," she replies, in the voice she uses when she wakes up in the middle of the night. "You look terrible."

He laughs, nudging her hip. "Thanks." He brushes her hair back from her face and she closes her eyes and leans into his touch, smiling serenely. Like she's falling asleep on him on the sofa, like she didn't nearly die, like his whole life didn't nearly fall apart. He's thankful for whatever they've given her – she's obviously not reliving whatever happened in there. Not yet. Her eyes flutter open for a moment and she gives him another smile, squeezing his hand. He swallows hard, chokes on the lump in his throat as her eyes close and her breathing gets slow and deep. "You look beautiful."

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><p><strong>Last of the drabble-size chapters! Thank you for reading, and please review :) <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

_She can hear him coming – hard footfalls echoing down a long corridor. God, what is this place… She presses herself into the corner, leans her head back against the wall and traps her shaking hands behind her knees, forcing herself to take deep, slow breaths. Fear is what he wants and she can't give it to him._

_The key scrapes in the lock, the handle turns, and she stares straight up at the door, her expression as cold and hard as she can get it. Fear rises in her throat as the door opens, and he appears there, almost silhouetted by the harsh light behind him, a twisted smile on his face. He opens his mouth and reaches toward her and she knows what he's going to say because he says it every time he comes in here and it makes her skin crawl – she twists her body further into the corner, desperate to sink through the wall behind her because she can't let him get his hands on her and he's going to say it –_

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><p>Hotch unfolds himself from the chair and stands, turns on the lamp by her bed. He tries not to loom over her as he settles his hand on her face, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb. "Emily." She's shaking, squirming, a sheen of sweat on her forehead – her eyes open suddenly, wide and fearful, and her hand goes to her throat, to the fingerprint bruises that stand out against her pale skin. "You're okay, sweetheart," he says quietly. Her eyes find his and she releases a breath harshly, bringing her hand up to settle over his on her face. She's too cold and too hot – she wants to get up and move but everything hurts and she feels tethered by the IV and the heart rate monitor and the stupid paper gown. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth.<p>

"Sorry," she mutters, then takes a couple of deep breaths. When she opens her eyes again he's watching her, his head tilted to one side, his hand warm on her cheek. Finally she registers that they should've sent him home, and she closes her hand around his. "What – how – how are you still here?"

"I can sometimes be persuasive," he replies softly, sitting on the edge of her bed, sliding his hand down to her shoulder, down her arm, his fingers tracing over her skin in swirling patterns. "Do you want me to get a nurse?"

"No," she says quickly, and his eyebrows raise. "I just… Don't want anyone else in here," she mutters, pushing her head back into the pillows, willing her eyes to stay open.

He sighs, his throat aching with guilt. And he can't help it, he's angry. He knows they got the guy, knows he's going to prison and he's never getting out, but _Emily_… He takes a second, keeps his voice soft. "Sweetheart, you might need some help sleeping -"

"No," she repeats.

He nods, watching her fight to keep her eyes open – he's forcibly reminded of Jack in the first weeks after Haley died, sitting on the sofa so tired he could barely hold his head up but refusing to close his eyes until Hotch said he could sleep in his bed with him. "Okay," he says. "Is there anything I can do?"

She drops her eyes, feeling small and vulnerable under the intensity of his gaze. She pushes herself up and sideways a little, wincing – she hurts in at least twelve different places – and sits against her pillows, then looks up at him through her eyelashes, blinking rapidly, the ache of tears in her throat getting close and inevitable. He comes closer slowly and holds his arms out toward her, his heart pounding with the thought of finally getting his arms around her for the first time since he carried her to the ambulance. She gets as close as she can to him then leans in, burrows her nose into the smell of him – he's changed his shirt – and exhales slowly as his arm close around her, his hands spreading over her back gently, carefully, like she's something delicate. "Is this okay?" he whispers, his breath warm on her ear.

She rests her cheek against him as her hands start to shake. "Yeah," she whispers, choking back the lump in her throat. His arms around her feel warm, comfortable – she thinks of being in his bed with him, of the warm weight of his arm thrown over her waist as he sleeps, and her eyelids get heavier… She sits back abruptly, hisses with pain and grabs her ribs. "Sorry," she mutters, as Hotch pulls his hands away from her. "Sorry, I just… I'm tired."

He nods, catching on quickly. He's spent whole nights walking around his apartment, because if he was walking he wasn't lying down and if he wasn't lying down he wouldn't fall asleep and if he didn't fall asleep… He evaluates the space on the bed. He knows he shouldn't – the nurse told him not to, for one thing, and it's a single bed and they kick each other enough in a double, and he's in jeans and a polo… She buries her face in her hands, breathing slowly and deliberately. He kicks his shoes off and arranges the blanket over his legs, lies down and guides her down with him. She doesn't say anything, doesn't even take her hands all the way off her face, just turns into him and lets him hold her. "If it happens again, I'm calling a nurse," he tells her. "You need to sleep."

She sighs but nods her agreement, her eyes dry and stinging. She can still feel the hands on her throat, the sharpness of the needle pushing into her arm… She closes her eyes, burrows as close to Hotch's chest as she can get and tries to push the images out of her mind. But she just gets new ones – getting out of her car, the darkness of the parking lot, the smell of the leather as the hand clapped over her mouth and pulled her backward. She clenches her hands into fists, and Hotch starts rubbing slow, soft circles on her back. "I was meeting my mother," she mumbles into his chest. "Does she know?"

"Yes," he says softly. "She came to the BAU. She was here a few hours ago. She'll be back tomorrow."

She shakes her head. "I don't want her to know what happened."

"That's okay," he replies. "You don't need to tell anybody anything until you're ready."

_Never be ready_, she thinks, as her eyelids finally get too heavy to hold open.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading :) Because this fic kind of came out of nowhere with minimal planning, I'm never quite sure how I feel about it, so... Let me know how <strong>**_you_**** feel about it? :P Thank you! **


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